


Petrichor

by SkyLeaf



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds
Genre: Arguing, Bedside Vigils, Duty, F/F, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22683673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyLeaf/pseuds/SkyLeaf
Summary: The princess of Lorule was fading. That was a fact Hilda could see reflected in the world around her, her own demise not only clear in the surface of her mirrors, but also in the realm that crumbled alongside her. Resigning herself to her fate, Hilda could only wait for the inevitable.Or so it seemed, until the day a princess steeped in light entered her life.
Relationships: Princess Hilda & Ravio (Legend of Zelda), Princess Hilda/Zelda
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the "another world"-prompt of Femslash February 2020.

Lorule was dying.

Everywhere Hilda looked, she saw the signs of the imminent destruction of her world glaring back at her, whether it was the dark clouds, adorned with a faint purple tint no matter when she would look up, the deep fissures that cut through her land like wounds, or the dirt in the air around her making it almost impossible to breathe freely.

Once, Hilda would perhaps have hoped for a miracle, allowed herself to believe that the goddesses that had abandoned Lorule in the past would show mercy and save them all. But that was a long time ago and—faced with a world that inched closer to its demise with every passing day—Hilda had been forced to grow up since then, as she had been the only heir to the throne when the former king and queen, her parents, had died. She was not naïve anymore, had lost her childish sense of hope.

Perhaps it was for the better. All around her, Hilda could see the different ways people coped with the knowledge that Lorule was at the brink of destruction. Where she had grown sombre over the years, it almost seemed like Ravio was determined to do the opposite, stubbornly clinging onto the hope that they would be saved, that someone would figure out a way to restore the Triforce. Others again had turned against each other, the dead world around them leaving them with only one mission: to get through each day, no matter what they had to do to achieve that goal. Hilda couldn’t exactly blame them, had she been in their place, stuck with nothing to do but wait for death and a princess that was both too young, inexperienced, and useless to do anything to help them, Hilda knew that she would not have lasted for very long.

Of course, even if Hilda was objectively well-off, she still knew that she would not be alive for much longer, even if she was among the few lucky enough to maintain some sort of normalcy in their lives, to know that she would not have to starve.

The first time she had noticed the severity of the illness and her rapidly worsening health, Hilda had been in yet another meeting meant to figure out a way to bridge the different parts of the land in the hope that messages could be delivered to the remote parts of the kingdom without risking the messenger’s life. At that point, Hilda already knew that all of the meetings, all of the initiatives and law reforms were nothing but a way to pretend that they had any power in the situation, to keep the people from panicking, but she had still been present for the meeting, sitting in her chair at the end of her table, her back perfectly straight. She had been the picture of poise and elegance and maybe Hilda could have fooled some of the more optimistic dignitaries into thinking that she had a semblance of an idea about what to do.

It had been at that point she had begun coughing violently, and the façade had cracked as Hilda realised that the pain in her chest and the red drops of blood on her handkerchief were connected. Still, she was the princess; she had to appear strong, so Hilda had ignored the signs, forcing herself to stay upright even as the room began spinning around her.

The library in the castle might have been partially destroyed during one of the earthquakes that so often tore through the land, but it only took Hilda a few hours before she had found the reason behind her suffering. Really, it was so obvious that she could almost not understand why she had not expected it to happen sooner or later and put precautionary measures in place.

With the Triforce gone, Lorule had to find another way to survive, another source of energy. Although it could only delay the inevitable as they had nothing that possessed even the tiniest fraction of the amount of energy the Triforce had once represented, it seemed that Lorule had chosen Hilda, slowly making her weaker and weaker as her kingdom used what little remained of her lifespan to give them more time.

When Hilda had first reached that conclusion, she didn’t know whether to cry or to laugh. She had always known that she would die early—everyone in Lorule knew that it would be the world around them rather than old age that would be the thing to kill them in the end—and she had been raised with the knowledge that Lorule and its citizens should always be more important than herself and her own feelings, but even that was only able to keep the feelings of hopelessness at bay for a moment.. No matter what kind of magical abilities Hilda possessed, she was still mortal, and her life would not be enough to sustain Lorule for long. Based on how little time it took before Hilda’s condition had reached the point where she could barely leave the castle, she estimated that her life would only give them a couple of months, perhaps a year if they were lucky—and luck was exactly a common thing in Lorule—more to prepare for the end.

It was selfish, so incredibly selfish, but a part of her wanted someone to notice. Hilda did her best to supress the little voice in her head that whispered to her how it would be so easy, a moment of carelessness, a handkerchief stained red with blood forgotten in a place where someone would find it and realise what was wrong, but as she grew weaker, the urge to make someone see what was happening to her grew stronger as well.

Still, she was able to hide it. Until the day where it all became too much for her body to handle and the lies came to an end.

The day the bridge connecting the castle to what little of the land the fissures in the earth had yet to render inaccessible collapsed, the mossy stones disappearing into the void and effectively isolating them inside the castle, Hilda collapsed as well.

She had been in the hallway outside her study, about to turn around to head back to her quarters when her vision had turned white and a searing hot pain blooming in her chest almost made her fall over.

Hilda barely managed to catch herself in time, placing her hand against the windowsill next to her in an attempt to stay upright. But it was a battle she could not win, and as another coughing fit hit her, she slid to the floor, unable to do anything other than attempt to mask her pain by pressing her glowed hand to her mouth and hoping that it would be enough to muffle the sound of her struggle to keep on breathing. She did not have to look down to know that her blood was seeping into the fabric of the glove, staining the brilliant colour of it.

From somewhere far away, Hilda heard someone call her name, she could feel someone grab her shoulder, but the next thing she knew, the blinding light around her made way for darkness and she was gone.

+++

The first thing she saw upon waking up was the pile of sheets stacked on top of her, weighing her down until she could hardly have moved even if she had the energy to try. After that, it was Ravio’s face, centimetres away from her own, that demanded her attention as Hilda tried to figure out what had happened for him to look at her with sadness written all over his face, a faint line between his brows and unshed tears in his eyes.

Hilda knew the moment Ravio had noticed her opening her eyes, for his eyes light up, some of the worry leaving him as he stood up straighter, looking at someone at the end of her bed.

“She has woken up!”

Instantly, commotion broke out, multiple people swarming around her as they all attempted to move closer, looking at her eyes, her face, a maid coming up with the idea of taking her temperature and a hand being pressed against her forehead moments later. She must have squirmed, done something to show her discomfort, for Ravio appeared at her side in an instant, pulling the young woman’s hand away while sending her a soft smile.

“Thank you, but I think that the best thing we can do for Her Highness is to let her rest.” when the maid simply nodded and resumed her task of making sure Hilda’s temperature was within a normal range, Ravio cleared his throat. “Alone. She needs to rest alone and have a moment of silence. In fact,” Hilda saw Ravio turn around, “it would most likely be best for the princess if you would all please give her a moment alone.”

At last, it seemed that they understood the meaning of his words, and Hilda saw the maid curtsy, her lips moving as she whispered something. Hilda could not make out the individual words, but as the maid got up to leave along with the rest of the people, she found that she did not care too much. All that mattered to her right then was the fact that, once the door had closed again, silence finally settled around her, allowing her to close her eyes and let out a short sigh, for once not having to keep up the act of everything being perfect.

“Hilda.” she felt the added weight on the mattress as Ravio sat down next to her. “How are you feeling?”

What was supposed to be a light and airy laugh, designed to assure Ravio that all was well and that Hilda passing out in the hallway had nothing to do with the dark skies outside the window, failed as the sound could not make it past her throat.

Wincing slightly at the pain, Hilda decided to try another strategy.

“I am feeling great, all things considered,” she said, and now that she knew better than to try anything more strenuous, she settled for simply smiling at her friend, “although I must have missed so much work while I was here. Tell me, do you know how long I have been asleep?” as long as she did not acknowledge the fact that she had been unable to support her weight, coughing up blood and surely ruining her dress before passing out in a hallway, everything was fine. It had to be.

“I don’t think that is a good idea—” Ravio began. Hilda could see how he reached out towards her hand that was resting on top one of the soft sheets.

“Don’t try to protect me from the truth, tell me how much time I have spent in here, neglecting my kingdom!” she had not even noticed the harsh tone until Ravio withdrew his hand in one quick motion. “Sorry,” Hilda whispered, barely managing not to cough.

Ravio shook his head. “No, you’re right. You have every right to know.” he went silent, and enough time passed that Hilda was halfway considering repeating her question when he finally looked back at her. “One of the maids found you passed out in the hallway—actually you saw her just before, she was trying to make sure your temperature was normal and that you would not die just yet, back before I asked everyone to leave the room—and she fetched a guard to help bring you to your room where you have then been asleep ever since. All of that was about two days ago at this point.”

Two days? Hilda closed her eyes. She had lost so much time, time she and the rest of her kingdom did not have, all because she had not been able to figure out a way to heal herself in time. Two days. By her current estimate, they only had about half a year, maybe an entire year if she was stronger than she dared to hope, and Hilda had just caused them to lose two entire days.

Perhaps Ravio guessed what she was thinking, for the next moment, Hilda felt someone take her hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Don’t blame yourself, Hilda,” Ravio said, “don’t you dare attempt to tell yourself that this is your fault. There was nothing you could have done about it, with the amount of time you have spent working with too little sleep and food this was bound to happen.”

“No.” Hilda tried to shake her head, but either the pillow underneath her was too soft or she was still too weak. No matter the reason, her efforts only lead to a strand of her hair moving from its place in front of her shoulder to instead fall over her face, impairing her already blurry vision even more. “No,” she repeated, “this had nothing to do with that. Rather, it is the goddesses’ last punishment for me.”

“How so?”

“Don’t you see? My ancestors destroyed the Triforce, the thing that was designed as the very foundation for Lorule to rest on. With it gone, this kingdom had to find another source of energy and who would be a better for that than the princess?” Hilda was no longer able to supress the cough, and although she could not lift her head from the pillow, she knew that she was still coughing up blood from the alarmed expression on Ravio’s face. “Really, I suppose I should be thankful for that. At least, this way, I will be able to do something to prolong your life.”

“Hilda...” Ravio’s voice was barely audible in the room, so full of sympathy and sorrow that Hilda knew she could not listen to him for long. The risk that she would shatter completely, cry, and beg him to do something so that she would not have to face the responsibility of being the princess of a doomed country any longer grew with every second she spent listening to him, and it was already so tempting to just agree with him and allow him to convince her that this was not her fault.

She waved her hand at him, or at least she attempted to, though the movement was slow and imprecise. “Just go. I can take care of myself from this point.”

“Actually,” Ravio said, nodding towards the door with an amount of energy Hilda had not expected, “that was what I wanted to talk with you about. I think I have found someone who can help you with your…” he went silent for a moment, and Hilda could almost see his inner debate of how he should refer to her issues, “… incidents.”

Although Hilda wanted to send him away and not allow the foolish sense of hope that filled her heart to get a chance to take root only for it to hurt even more later on when she would have to come face to face with the reality of Lorule’s situation, she lifted her head slightly, just barely managing to move away from the softness of the pillow.

“Who? I have already tried to find someone who has any idea about what to do, but I couldn’t find anyone who had ever heard of my situation before.” Hilda deliberately avoided mentioning the fact that even if she had known of someone with any knowledge of what she could do, she would still not have been able to contact them since it would mean risking the truth about just how bad their situation was getting out to the people where it would no doubt lead to nothing but panic and chaos.

However, she could see that there had not been any reason for her to spare Ravio’s feelings. Right then, it seemed that even if Lorule were to die completely in that very moment, it would still not have been enough to remove the smile on Ravio’s face as he looked down at her.

“I am not sure. A guard found her right outside the castle just a few hours ago, and when he asked her to leave, she mentioned your name, expressing a wish to help.”

Was that it? Hilda sank back, disappearing into the pillows again. That was what had convinced Ravio that they were all saved, some random girl who had been clever enough to use the name of the princess to make her way into the castle? He should have known better. A person who had grown so desperate that they had resorted to theft as a way to feed themselves was sadly not an uncommon sight, especially not during the last couple of months, so how could Ravio have decided to let her into the castle, unsupervised no less, if Hilda was interpreting the situation correctly?

Guilt filled her when Hilda realised that Ravio had taken the girl in because he—unlike Hilda—had not allowed Lorule to turn him bitter and distrustful. He still believed that the people around him were fundamentally good. And if he could stay kind even in the face of destruction, Hilda could at least try to pretend to be a better person than she really was.

So, ignoring the urge to comment on the risk of letting a stranger into the castle, Hilda looked up at Ravio and tried to pretend that she did not see the pitying look in his eyes when she struggled to speak. “So she has found a way to travel between the different parts of the kingdom despite the lack of a bridge connecting the castle to the rest of the land? Is that what she wants to speak to me about?”

“No,” Ravio said, bouncing slightly with barely contained joy, “it’s even better than that!”

Even better than a way to ensure that communication between the different areas of her kingdom could once again be possible? Hilda had a hard time imagining it, given how even the act of building another bridge would most likely end up being a futile task as she doubted Lorule would be able to last for the entirety of the construction process.

“Better than that?” Hilda asked, and she could hear how she did not fully succeed in keeping the doubt from making its way into her voice. “What could that be?”

“She said that she found her way into this realm through a portal in her own kingdom that led her here through our Sacred Realm.”

Hilda froze, and when she spoke up again, she had to fight to keep her voice firm. “There is no Sacred Realm. It is a story meant to be told to children to stop them from worrying too much about their future.” once upon a time, Hilda’s mother had pulled her closer to her as she used her words to paint the image of an incredible world where the sky was a wonderful blue, the ground beneath their feet green and whole, assuring her daughter that she would get the chance to experience such a world for herself one day. But that was a long time ago now, the memories of the tales had faded, and Hilda knew better than to believe in what little she could remember.

Still, it did not do anything to discourage Ravio as he continued. “That is what I thought at first as well, but she talked about it so vividly that it has to be more than a lie.”

Ravio leant in even closer, shifting his weight, and as the bed dipped slightly more, Hilda realised that despite Ravio’s carefree attitude, he still needed some kind of story he could convince himself was actually a sign that they would all be saved in the end. And although Hilda denied herself the luxury of hope, she would not be the one to destroy Ravio’s.

So instead, she forced herself to smile. “And where is this girl now?”

The effects of her question—or rather, the sign that she had accepted his explanation—were immediate. Hilda could see Ravio let out an anxious breath, the scared look in his eyes giving way for his usual happy attitude. “Right outside. I hoped that you would agree to meet her, so I asked her to wait.”

“Well, you were right then. And does this girl have a name?”

“Yes, of course, sorry, I should have told you sooner.” realising that he was rambling, Ravio coughed once before stopping when he noticed how Hilda flinched at the sound. “Sorry, I didn’t think… but no matter what, her name is Zelda and… I don’t know if it’s true, but she says that she is a princess herself as well, ruling over a place called Hyrule.”

And just like that, all of Hilda’s hopes that maybe, just maybe, this mysterious Zelda could be the answer she had spent the last several years searching for left her again. She did not know of any kingdom called Hyrule, none of the books in the library had mentioned such a place, and not even the merchants that had visited the castle in the time before the fissures made travel impossible had ever told her of a kingdom with that name.

But Ravio knew that as well, so Hilda would just have to trust his judgement.

“Very well, tell Zelda that she had my permission to enter the room then.”

Ravio immediately jumped to his feet and Hilda had to supress a smile at the sight of Ravio starting to bow before seemingly changing his mind and going in for a hug instead, careful not to place any weight on Hilda as he quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulders before standing back up.

“I am so happy that you said that! Just you wait, Hilda, I promise you that even if it turns out that she does not have any idea of how to solve Lorule’s problems, you will not have any reason to regret this decision.”

Hilda chuckled and decided against asking Ravio what he meant by that to instead look first at him and then over at the door. “I hope so. Now, will you please send her in?”

“Of course.”

She heard Ravio run through the room, and although Hilda did not possess the strength to sit up and be able to watch him, she could easily picture the way he had to fight the urge to jump, the way Ravio usually did when he was happy.

It has been a long time since she had seen him like that. Too long.

The wooden door creaked when her best friend closed it behind him, but Hilda could still hear a hushed conversation take place right outside her bedroom, though the voices were so muffled by both the distance as well as the amount of feathers surrounding her head that she could not figure out what exactly they were saying.

And then someone came into the room, stepping closer to the bed. Even if Hilda had not already expected for Zelda to come see her, she would still have known that it was not Ravio who was walking over to her. The sound of the person crossing the floor was entirely different from how Ravio walked, bubbly and loudly. Instead the sounds of the footfalls were even, almost like this Zelda made sure that each step was perfectly calculated.

Had it not been for the fact that Hilda knew how she was only aware of all of this because Ravio had mentioned Zelda claiming to be a princess herself, she would perhaps have thought that the sound reminded her of how she used to walk when in front of an audience. Only, now there was no need for any of the pretence. The only persons still in the room were after all Ravio, Hilda, and now also Zelda as well.

“Hilda?” Zelda stopped a couple of steps away to her bed, and upon hearing her voice, Hilda could instantly tell that she had been right to doubt Zelda’s tale. This was not a voice of a princess; it lacked the hard edge of someone who knew that thousands of people depended on your decisions to stay alive. No, this Zelda might be a very imaginative girl, but she was ultimately still just that: a girl who might have felt some kind of obligation to help with a problem that she should never have had to worry about in the first place.

Just as Hilda was about to ask Zelda for her reasons for being there—there had to be one, why else would someone voluntarily get involved in the mess that ruling Lorule was nowadays, letting the land drain them of their energy—Zelda leant in over her, and the sight of the other girl rendered Hilda speechless, the question never making it out into the room.

The thing that made her stay silent was not Zelda’s beauty. Although it was an obvious aspect of her appearance, it was not the most eye-catching thing about the other girl. No, rather that was how healthy she looked. Where was the dull look in her eyes that Hilda saw stare back at her every time she would dare to look in a mirror, the skin that had turned so pale due to the lack of a sun that it could almost be described as grey, and the constant fatigue etched into her every feature? Hilda searched, but she could not find any of the features she saw reflected back at her everywhere she looked in Lorule. Instead, Zelda was glowing, with eyes full of life and the corners of her mouth drawn up into a tentative smile.

“I have heard a great deal about you—and your kingdom as well—princess,” Zelda said, “and I have travelled here to offer you my assistance in making an attempt to salvage what is left.”

She spoke slowly and fluently, having quite clearly had the chance to receive a proper education. Why she would decide to waste that by attempting to make her way into the castle was beyond Hilda.

But if Zelda wanted to pretend to be a princess, Hilda could play along as well, so she forced herself to adopt her most regal expression as she sent Zelda a cold look. “And what do you wish to receive in return for your help?”

“Nothing.” Zelda’s eyes widened, almost like she couldn’t believe what Hilda was saying, and Hilda had to admit that this Zelda was a better actress than she had expected her to be. But then again, she had managed to make Ravio believe her tale. Although Ravio was definitely the more naïve and trusting of the two, he was not a fool and had as much experience as Hilda at handling negotiations and discussions wherein people often had a habit of lying to get closer to achieving their own goals.

“Then why did you come here?”

“Because I want to help you, Hilda. I know that it will not be enough to make you believe me just yet, but the only reason I am here is because I hope that I can do something to save both you and Lorule.”

Hilda scoffed, forcing herself not to wince as she rolled over so that she was facing away from Zelda. “Don’t you think I have already done everything within my power to save my kingdom? What do you think you can do that I have not already tried? Trust me, _princess_ ,” Hilda said, emphasising the last word in an attempt to show Zelda just how unbelievable her story was. If Zelda noticed the harsher tone, she did not comment on it, and Hilda did not wait for her to do so, “there is nothing you can do to help me now. I will try my best to stay alive for as long as I possibly can to buy my subjects a little more time, but I am ultimately powerless to do anything other than wait.”

She stayed where she was, silently hoping that Zelda had finally understood that Hilda did not have time for her stories and taken her words as a cue to leave.

Evidently, Zelda had not done any of that. Instead, Hilda could hear her take a step closer to her, the sound slow and unsure.

“Hilda, can I sit here for a moment?” Zelda asked. Hilda did not have to look over at her to know that she was gesturing towards the edge of the bed and bit back a laugh at the ridiculousness of Hilda allowing a stranger to be so close to her. Still, she saw no reason to deny Zelda a chance to rest.

“Do what you want to.” Hilda could feel how Zelda sat down, slowly almost like she didn’t believe that the bed could support her weight as well, and it made Hilda want to curl up and cry over how even though Zelda now sat where Ravio had been just a few moments ago, Zelda was acting so differently from him. Where it had almost seemed like Ravio believed he could restore Lorule if he just talked enough, Zelda did not say anything. However, Hilda could almost hear what she was thinking, how much this supposed princess pitied her, not trusting the furniture around her to be sturdy enough for her. Where Hilda and Ravio were in the same boat, even if it was slowly sinking beneath their feet, Zelda’s story placed her firmly on dry land where she could look at their fight for survival.

It was then that Zelda spoke up, and Hilda listened, for once thankful that Zelda was interrupting her thoughts.

“If you want to understand why I am here, you will also have to understand _how_ I got here. You see, although I did tell you guards the truth, I did not tell them everything as I wanted to make sure that you would be the one to decide how much of the truth you wanted to be known by the people around you.”

That piqued Hilda’s interest, and she finally turned back towards Zelda. To her surprise, Zelda looked down at her not with pity, but rather with a warm look in her eyes, something Hilda did not know what to think of. “What do you mean?” Hilda asked, but Zelda just shook her head at her.

“Please, let me explain. How familiar are you with the legends of the Triforce?”

A humourless chuckle made its way past her lips. “Given how it is the lack of the Triforce that has resulted in the sorry state my kingdom is in now, I would say that I am quite familiar with the legends.”

“Of course, I didn’t realise…” Zelda’s face turned pinker as she coughed before continuing, “but to get back to reason I am able to be here now, your world is not the only one that was once given a gift from the goddesses that came to be known as the Triforce. There are several other worlds that were granted such a gift as well, all of them separate from one another, or at least they were until a few weeks ago. You see, I am the ruler one of these parallel worlds, a kingdom called Hyrule. The idea of there being more than one universe in existence has always been fascinating to me, so when I first began to notice signs of what could be a portal connecting our Sacred Realm to that of another world, I was more than happy to volunteer to go and see for myself what was on the other side. That was how I found your kingdom.” Zelda went silent, fixing Hilda with an expectant gaze.

Well, if she wanted a reaction, Hilda could give her one.

“Parallel worlds separated by barriers that just so happened to weaken as you began to look into the idea of parallel universes? Did you honestly expect me to believe that?”

“No,” Zelda admitted, “no, I did not. I have read quite a bit about the history of your kingdom, Hilda, so trust me; I knew that you would not have any reason to believe me.”

Forcing herself not to show any sign of surprise, Hilda nodded. “Then you must also know that you are wasting your time by being here. If you have truly travelled here from another world, I advise you to save yourself and return to your own kingdom the moment you get the chance to do so, as there is nothing you can do here other than doom yourself to die with our world.”

“Hilda, I will have to disagree with you. I might not have the power necessary to save your world, but I promise you that I will make an attempt.” the words were soon accompanied by the feeling of Zelda shifting around to extend her hand towards her before coming to a rest just above Hilda’s hand, so little distance between the two of them, that Zelda might as well have leant in to hug her.

The glare that Hilda sent the other princess took care of that in an instant, as Zelda quickly pulled her hand to her chest instead, the tips of her ears turning red with embarrassment.

Good. Hilda ignored the ache in her chest as the soothing contact disappeared. She had to put an end to this, it had already been too easy for Zelda to get close to her, and although Hilda hated herself for it, the truth was that the only reason for it was that she had been weak, unable to see that there would never come anyone to save her and Lorule. If she wanted to save her kingdom, Hilda had to admit to herself that she alone was the one responsible for the fate of Lorule. Zelda and all of her stories, although comforting, were nothing but lies that would only serve to distract Hilda from her responsibilities.

“Please leave,” Hilda said, careful not to let her voice betray her, “Ravio should be waiting for you just outside this room; he will make sure to escort you back to where the guards found you. Then, you can return to your own kingdom.”

For a moment, Hilda almost expected Zelda to stay, but of course that was not the case.

The bed creaked as Zelda stood up.

“Very well,” Zelda began, “I will leave you for the time being, but I will be back tomorrow. Don’t lose hope yet, Hilda, I am sure you will find a way.”

Hilda could not find the energy in her to form an answer as Zelda left the room.

+++

Much to Hilda’s surprise, Zelda kept her promise, coming back the next day. In fact, ever since that day they had first met, Zelda had come back every single day. She did not spend more than a couple of hours in Lorule at a time—and by now, Hilda had grown used to the fact that, other than Zelda’s tale of another world, she would never be able to get the real answer to the question of where exactly Zelda went each day—but she would, without fail, come back each day.

Hilda was not sure the reason for Zelda stubborn determination was, but somehow, Zelda had found the time to grow closer to a couple of the guards, and just a week after she had first arrived at the castle, Zelda was being led up to Hilda’s chambers by a guard, the two of them chatting so loudly that Hilda had been alerted to their presence long before the guard had opened the door for Zelda. She supposed she should have reminded the guard that he was there to ensure her safety and that taking a guest, charming or not, directly to her chambers was a reckless move. But for some reason Hilda found that Zelda’s presence made her forget about the security concerns until long after Zelda had left her alone again, and by then, it was too late to look for the guard to remind him to do his job properly.

Besides, if there was one thing Hilda did not want to do, it was to let Zelda see just how distrustful and bitter Hilda had allowed her heart to become over the years, so it was not like she would ever have actually told the guard to remember his duties while Zelda was there and risk making Zelda regret her decision to meet her, putting an end to her visits at the same time.

The time Hilda spent with the other princess had quickly turned into Hilda’s favourite time of the day, foolish as it was to let Zelda get so close to her in such a short amount of time. But although Hilda spent most of their time together silently going over just how much she could tell Zelda and making numerous attempts to dissuade Zelda from continuing to visit, it was a pleasant change to have the chance to talk with another princess, even if the story of Hyrule and Zelda sounded too good to be true.

However, there was still one thing Zelda could never seem to grasp: Hilda’s decision to let herself fade away in an attempt to help her kingdom.

“I know that it is your choice,” Zelda said during one of their countless arguments over the subject, “but you have to let yourself rest from time to time. You might think that you are able to keep up with this amount of work, but trust me, you will not be able to do that for long.”

Around them, the dusty hallway of the castle almost seemed to close in on Hilda, suffocating her. It was far from the first time Hilda had experienced the sensation of her lungs struggling to supply the rest of her body with enough air to function, but that did not make it any less unpleasant when it happened. By now, Zelda at least knew better than to attempt to help her as Hilda leant against the wall, unable to do anything other than focus on the dull ache in her chest for a few seconds, before air once again flooded her lungs and she was able to stand up straight again.

“You are right, this is my choice,” Hilda agreed and tried her best to ignore how Zelda had frozen in place, staring at her with wide eyes like she had never had to deal with the pain of the bad air that surrounded them, “so I ask you not to question it. If my life is enough to buy Lorule more time, then that is something I am willing to sacrifice.”

“But what if you are wrong?” Zelda asked, and Hilda had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Here they were again, stuck and unable to reach an agreement on the question of whether or not Hilda’s sickness would be able to help Lorule.

Hilda’s answer was short and left no room for objections. “I am not. I have spent my entire life studying the history of this realm and if you really came here from another world as you claim you have, you would not have had the chance to read about my illness, so I suggest that you trust my judgement.”

But of course that was not enough for Zelda. It never was when it came to the matter of Hilda’s sense of gloom and how she hoped to at least face the inevitable with her dignity intact.

“You may think that you know the reasons for your problems with your health,” Zelda began, reaching out to place her hand on Hilda’s shoulder, allowing her to lean against her as another coughing fit almost made the princess fall to the ground, “but look at you. You need to rest. You are drowning yourself in your work; you won’t be able to do that for much longer; your body will simply have to give up one day.”

Bringing the back of her hand to her mouth and attempting to ignore the way the sight of the blood against the white fabric made her stomach drop, Hilda walked over to the nearest window, Zelda following right behind her.

“Look at the state of my kingdom, princess.” even if Zelda had not known what Hilda was referring to, Hilda’s gesture towards the sight that met them—a sky that had turned so dark that the purple shade of it was barely visible anymore, the sickly blue colour of Death Mountain, the way all of the dirt hanging in the air was impairing their vision, making the outline of the mountain itself barely visible through the dust—was sure to show her just what she was talking about. “My subjects are suffering, and I am at least partly to blame for that. So tell me, why do you think I should do anything other than attempt to dedicate the rest of my life to an attempt to better things?”

“You could realise that they need you alive and that if you die, there will be no one left to claim the throne,” Zelda said. She had not hesitated for even a second and Hilda found herself wishing that it was not so easy for her to come up with reasons to doubt Hilda’s plans.

However, Hilda was not about to give in so quickly, so, making sure not to meet Zelda’s gaze, she countered. “It has already been years since my coronation, and I have yet to do anything to help the people out there. I am sure they will think of a way to find a new ruler and if they do not find anyone…” she shot a glance at up at the sky, “… then I doubt they will have enough time left here for it to become a problem.”

“But you do admit that it could become a problem?”

Seeing that there was no way she would be able to make a convincing argument against that, Hilda nodded. “Yes, it might. However, that does not mean that I am not right about my illness.”

“Perhaps.”

Hilda could hear the doubt in Zelda’s voice, but as it had so often been for the last couple of weeks, she could not summon the strength to bother to continue the argument. She knew that she was right and that, despite her eloquence and the way Zelda could make her heart skip a beat just by looking at her, Hilda was still alone in her situation. With Zelda, she could forget about the fact that she was the ruler of a dying kingdom for a short while, but at the end of the day Hilda had to face reality and admit that all of this, all of the times she allowed Zelda to help her up when she would fall, to comfort her, and to hear about worries that Hilda would have hesitated to tell even Ravio about, would not help her.

Still, Hilda was too selfish to ask Zelda to leave, so, making sure that her smile was looking somewhat convincing, she nodded towards the end of the corridor. “If you wish to know more about this kingdom, I could show you a few books in the library you might like.”

The way Zelda looked at her, eyes twinkling made her chest tighten in a way that was so entirely different from the one that followed her coughing fits.

“I would love for you to show me.”

“Good,” Hilda said and tried not to think about the way she automatically reached out to grab Zelda’s hand, “follow me then.”

She did not have to say that twice, and the next moment, they were both making their way over to the library as quickly as Hilda’s weakened body would allow.

+++

“The bridges call for the construction of pillars underneath them to be able to support the weight of people crossing it,” Hilda said, reading from the report in front of her before looking up at Zelda and Ravio, “but since we don’t have a way of building anything in the fissures seeing as the cracks in the earth seem to continue on for forever, it is not possible to do that.”

“What is the maximum amount of weight the bridges can withstand right now without it all falling into the abyss?” Zelda asked.

“Right now? About three hundred kilos each which is nowhere near enough for us to actually allow people to cross the bridges regularly, not even to mention the fact that the older the bridges get, the risk of it all collapsing will grow as well,” Ravio answered before looking back down at his notes, “we could of course make it so that you need a permit to use the bridges, but that would defeat the reasons for building them in the first places. They will not really achieve the goal of making it easier to travel between the different parts of Lorule if people can’t use them.”

A headache was already forming behind her eyes as Hilda used the root of her hand to rub against her left temple. Even though their discussion and attempts to find a possible answer to the question of how to improve connections to the more remote parts of the kingdom had been dragged out—all of them too stubborn to admit that the answer might not even exist—they had not gotten any closer to even a vague idea of what to do. Building pillars to support the bridges was impossible due to the nature of the fissures, they had tried strengthening the bridges, but it was still not enough. Only a week ago, one of her advisors had suggested building some sort of catapult-like device that could throw people and goods across the cracks in the earth. Back then, Hilda had been quick to dismiss the idea as too dangerous, but as she spent more and more time thinking about the alternatives—or rather the lack of alternatives—the idea was slowly beginning to seem less reckless.

If that was not a perfect example of just how desperate she had become, Hilda did not know what was.

“Yes, not being able to use any of the bridges is not an ideal situation,” Zelda agreed, moving to lean in over the table that separated her and Ravio, “but could we perhaps do that for a while, just until we manage to figure out a way to build sturdier bridges?”

And there it was, yet another sign of how Zelda had not spent most of her life seeing the situation around her slowly but surely worsening each day.

Putting on what she hoped was a calm and not at all panicked expression, Hilda shook her head. “Not exactly. Just a few years ago, we were able to jump across the gaps. The issues surrounding the subject of how to make travel possible in Lorule will only become worse over time. We have seen for ourselves that the predictions are dire and that Lorule comes closer to total destruction with each passing day. It is not possible for us to wait.”

Zelda bowed her head, for once not having anything positive to say about the situation. It was not until that moment when she saw the cracks in the façade that Hilda realised just how much she had grown used to being able to count on Zelda to be the one of them to not lose courage.

“Then what do we do?” Ravio asked, looking back and forth between them.

“The only thing we can really do right now: we wait. The most likely outcome of all of this is that Lorule will crumble long before any of the bridges will collapse again.” Hilda looked around at the table, silently hoping that either Zelda or Ravio—two of the most optimistic persons she knew—would speak up to disagree with her. But they both stayed silent, and it felt like a rock settled in her stomach as Hilda understood that even the two of them could not find anything positive to say about the situation.

+++

“Look! Look at this one, and this one!”

Hilda chuckled silently to herself as Zelda let go of her hand the moment they stepped into the courtyard to instead run over to the nearest bush, dropping to her knees as she began to rummage through the mess of weeds and grass that had covered the roots of what had once been a fairly healthy plant.

“I take it that you like the weeds that have taken over this part of the courtyard then?” she asked, leaning slightly to the side as she sent Zelda a small smile through the strands of hair falling in her face.

Zelda looked up from where she was sitting, having halfway crawled into the bush, her mouth a surprised little ‘o’. “Weeds? This?” she held up a handful on plants, yellow-green stems against red petals. “You actually consider this plant unwanted?”

“Well, yes.” Hilda walked over to stand next to her, careful not to let her dress touch the ground. Zelda did not seem to have the same reservations, already sitting on the ground, looking up at Hilda as she continued. “We do not have any use of these plants so it is a waste of space to keep them here. Besides, they ruin the look of the gardens. Part of keeping up morale is to not let it become obvious that you do not hold any power anymore, so it means a lot to me that the castle looks at least somewhat presentable, and this does not exactly help me achieve that goal.” she shot the shrub a stare, like it was personally responsible for the weeds around it.

“So you don’t consider this flower beautiful?” Zelda asked.

“No, and we also don’t call it a flower. It is a weed and it is not supposed to be there. I will ask the gardener to pay a bit more attention to this flowerbed from now on—perhaps that would make this look like a proper courtyard again.”

“For what it is worth,” Zelda said, pushing herself off the ground to stand next to Hilda, pausing for a moment to brush off a bit of the dirt that stuck to her dress, “I think that this is a beautiful courtyard, much prettier than the one at Hyrule Castle.”

And there it was again. Hyrule. Even after all these weeks, Hilda was still not certain whether or not the kingdom Zelda would speak of with such fondness from time to time truly existed or if Zelda was only yet another thief hoping to find hidden treasures within the castle, albeit a thief so determined to get close to Hilda that it, if her goal really was to find treasures, could almost be described as stupid, but Hilda had found that she did not care about Zelda’s intentions. The only thing that mattered was that Zelda would inexplicably return each day.

And if it should turn out that Zelda was only there to get a chance to find the treasury, Hilda would be the first to inform her that she was fooling herself if she thought there were any resources worth stealing left. All of the gold had disappeared generations ago, and the amount of food they had left had almost reached a worrying point.

“Hilda, there is actually a story I wanted to tell you.”

Hilda looked up from the ground, only to see Zelda stand right in front of her, only a couple of centimetres of air separating them as Zelda held out a little bouquet towards her. It only took her a moment to recognise the plants as the weeds Zelda had insisted on calling flowers.

“Oh? What kind of story?” Hilda asked, raising an eyebrow at Zelda.

“Don’t worry; I know you will love it. Just follow me, and then I can show you!” Zelda said, her voice full of excitement, and Hilda had only barely nodded before Zelda had grabbed her hand, halfway running, halfway walking over to a mossy stone bench located right next to the walls that surrounded the castle. “Just sit here,” Zelda instructed as she pointed at the bench.

Trying to make her sigh and the murmured protest that the moss would ruin her dress sound genuine, Hilda went to sit down, Zelda sitting next to her on the cold, stony surface. Although the bench was fairly wide, with enough space for at least four people, they were now sitting right next to each other, Zelda’s arm brushing against Hilda as she handed her something. It wasn’t until she had accepted the present that Hilda realised how she was now holding one of the flowers that had amazed Zelda so much she had been ready to sacrifice the intricate design of her clothes if that was what it would take to be able to climb into the flowerbed to retrieve the plant.

“See,” Zelda said, the sound of her voice making Hilda tear her gaze away from the flower to instead look over at Zelda. A few strands of blonde hair had managed to escape from their place behind her shoulders, and Hilda only barely managed to stop herself in time before she had given in and reached out to move them back to their proper place. At least it didn’t seem like Zelda had noticed anything, and she kept on gesturing wildly as she told her story, “I knew that this flower reminded me of something, but I could not figure out what it was. But now I remember it. Back in Hyrule, there is a flower that is said to be able to bring you closer together. It looks a lot like this one,” Zelda nodded towards the stem, “only the colour of its petals is a bit less red than this one.”

“I see,” Hilda said, all too conscious of the fact that Zelda had inched closer to her over the last minute, sitting so close to her that if she kept on moving, she would be sitting on Hilda’s lap before long, “but how is that a story?”

Lightly hitting her shoulder, Zelda laughed. “You didn’t give me a chance to actually tell you the story yet!” she finished laughing and cleared her throat. “It is said that there once was a princess who had been cursed by an evil wizard. And it was a truly terrible curse: if she would not find her soulmate within a year, then her heart would shatter into a million pieces. So the princess tried everything she could think of, she arranged multiple dances to get a chance to meet potential suitors, she wrote letters to the rulers of the neighbouring kingdoms, asking for their help, but it all seemed hopeless. Even though the princess introduced herself to hundreds, no, to thousands of people during those months, she never found her soulmate, and before long, she knew that if she did not find her soulmate during the next three days, her heart would shatter exactly as the wizard had told her. Can you guess what she then did?” Zelda leant closer, and Hilda swallowed, trying to come up with an answer to her question.

“I would suppose she did her best to ensure that her kingdom would be able to continue to prosper even after her death. So she would probably make sure that she had an heir who could handle to burden once she would be gone.”

But Zelda simply shook her head. “No, she did not do any of that. Instead, she realised that since she had not been able to find her soulmate on her own although she had spent almost an entire year searching for them, she would have to ask for someone else to help her. And so, she travelled to a remote corner of her kingdom, the journey lasting for an entire day, and there, she found an old woman who promised to help her.”

“What did she ask for in return?”

“Nothing. The old woman was kind and she could see that the princess was afraid of what would happen to her kingdom, so she immediately agreed to do her best to help her. Telling her that there was a way to find your soulmate, the woman led the princess into the forest behind her house where she showed her a special flower. At that time, the flower only existed in that forest. It was a flower much like the one you are holding right now, and if you ate it right before going to sleep, the woman said, you would dream of your soulmate while sleeping. The old woman told her all of this while handing her several of the small flowers, instructing the princess to only eat one and to save the rest underneath her pillow. Now feeling much more confident, the princess thanked the old woman and promised her that she would remember her once she had found her soulmate.”

While talking, Zelda’s eyes had grown brighter, looking at the overgrown garden in front of them with such joy that there was no doubt in Hilda’s mind that Zelda was seeing the princess from her tale rather than the ruined Lorule. It was the only way Hilda could explain the fond look Zelda sent her.

At least, it did not seem that Zelda noticed the incredulous Hilda sent her as she continued to tell her story. “Once she got home, the princess made her way to her bedchamber. She was both eager to see her soulmate and a bit scared, for she knew that if she did not find her soulmate the next day, the wizard’s curse would take effect and her heart would shatter. But she did her best not to think about that as she quickly ate the flower and went to sleep. That night, as the princess slept, she saw pictures, passing by so quickly that she barely had a chance to recognise anything before the next one had replaced it.”

Hilda would be lying if she tried to claim that Zelda’s tale was not intriguing, but she did her best to appear calm and uninterested as she nodded along. “But how could the princess find her soulmate then? If she never saw who it was and only had a single day left, there is no way she would be able to find the person.” noticing the smile on Zelda’s face, Hilda cocked her head. “Unless there is something more to the story you have yet to tell me.”

“Of course there is, I haven’t gotten to the end yet,” Zelda said, laughing softly as she leant up against Hilda, “for although the princess never got the chance to see the face of the person she was destined to fall in love with, when she woke up the next morning, she found herself wandering through the halls of her castle, clutching the bouquet as she made her way to the gates, and past the guards who looked at her, wondering if she was in danger. But the princess looked so serene, a calm expression on her face, that they found themselves unable to move closer to her to attempt to stop her. So the princess walked right past them and into a nearby town. Once there, she told the inhabitants that she was there to find her soulmate.”

“But is it not naively optimistic of her to think she can just proclaim that she is searching for a soulmate without everyone rushing to her in an attempt to trick her into marrying them?” Hilda asked, drawing her brows together as she tried to piece it all together. At this point, Hilda knew that no matter how hopeless the princess’ situation was, Zelda would be sure to give her a happy ending, but she could not see how that was possible.

Next to her, Zelda shifted, reaching out to take one of the flowers from her. “Perhaps,” Zelda said as she held the flower in front of her, pointing towards the petals, “but the princess knew what to do. She asked everyone who wished to prove that they were the soulmate from her dreams to come forward and gave each of them a flower. Soon, six suitors, all young men from good families, were standing in front of her and the princess had only one more flower left. That was when a young woman took a step forward as well. She was the daughter of a baker and knew that she did not stand a chance against the sons of the much richer families, but she knew that she had to try. Now, the princess was not exactly sure what she had to do to figure out which of the seven suitors in front of her was her soulmate, but as she opened her mouth to tell them of her dream, the words that came out were not her own. Rather they belonged to the old woman from the forest, and she told that everyone who wished to marry the princess must count the amount of petals on the flower they had been handed.”

Following Zelda’s line of sight, Hilda glared down at the flower in question, silently attempting to count the tiny petals. After a while she gave up, certain that there was no way she would be able to figure it out.

“And then what?” Hilda asked. “Did they figure out that it was impossible?”

Zelda shook her head. “No. They all began to count, ripping the petals off the flowers as they went along so they could see which ones they had yet to count. Only the baker’s daughter hesitated as she saw the princess flinch each time a petal fell to the ground. You see, the wizard’s curse had been cruel. He knew of the existence of the flower and he had arranged it so that any attempt of using it to find the princess’ soulmate would aid his curse, and as the quickest of the suitors had almost reached the last petals, the princess collapsed. However, even as she hit the ground, none of the people in front of her noticed it, as they were all preoccupied with the task the princess had given the suitors. All except for the baker’s daughter. She had not made as much progress as the rest as she had had to start over multiple times, but she was persistent and did not give up even if she would often look up from the flower to glance over at the princess. This was why she was the only one to react when the princess fell. She sat down on the ground next to the princess, and leant in, hoping that she was not too late.”

“But the princess was dead, was she not?”

“No not quite. She was close to death, but as the baker’s daughter, fully believing the princess to be dead, cried, one of her tears fell and hit the flower she still clutched. Then, a miracle happened, as the flower grew, taking root right next to them, and before long, they were surrounded by a wide patch of flowers. This was when the princess opened her eyes again, freed from the curse, as she now saw her soulmate look back at her. The princess and baker’s daughter got married the same week, and the area where the flower had taken root came to be known as a place for people looking for love to visit as they seemed to maintain their mysterious ability to bring people together.” Zelda finished her story by waving the flower from side to side, looking back and forth between it and Hilda who returned the gesture by frowning lightly.

“And what does that have to do with this flower?”

“Well, since it was still the flower that made the princess meet her soulmate as it had given her the dream and shown her a way to find the one who cared more about her than the possibility of marrying her, this flower and the legend surrounding it soon turned into a game for couples—”

“Couples?” Hilda interrupted, raising an eyebrow at Zelda and feeling a weird sense of pride at how her question caused the other princess to blush and stare down at the ground in front of her.

“And friends, of course,” Zelda hurried to add, but there was something in her tone that made Hilda doubt that the game was indeed also commonly played among friends, no matter what exactly the game entailed. But still, Zelda’s tale had gotten her attention, so she nodded like she had not noticed anything, like her heart was not beating a little bit faster.

“Oh, I see, friends. But then what exactly is this game?”

“You take a flower, like this,” Zelda said, helpfully adjusting herself so that she could sit up straight, so close to Hilda that it was not possible for the other princess to miss the fragrance of the flower as Zelda held it out in front of her for Hilda to see as she continued, “and then one of us will attempt to count all of the petals—and of course destroying the flower is not allowed, so you can’t tear off the petals as you go along—while the other try to distract them. And then every time the first person has to start over, the other person will kiss them.”

Forcing herself to sit still and not show any reaction to the explanation of the rules, Hilda looked down at the little flower that had started all of that, trying to ignore the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was not that games such as this one were entirely foreign to her, she had overheard a few of the maids talk about something similar, giggling until they noticed her at which point they would usually clear their throat and look down at the floor until she had passed by them, but she had never actually allowed herself to participate in such a waste of time. And of course Ravio had always been so much more forward than to play those kinds of games.

“That does sound....” Hilda stopped, suddenly unsure of how to continue the sentence without risking saying anything that could be interpreted as an insult, “…romantic. I take it that it is a common game back in Hyrule?”

“I would not exactly call it common,” Zelda said, and Hilda had to force herself to sit still rather than look over at Zelda. She was sure that Zelda was smiling at her the way she usually did, brilliant and shinning, but right then, Hilda was not sure she knew how to return a smile, so she only nodded along as Zelda added, “but it is absolutely a well-known game. Do you want to try it?”

In a way, Hilda had known that such a question would follow the end of Zelda’s explanation sooner or later, but it still managed to catch her off-guard. Looking over at Zelda so quickly it hurt, Hilda was overly aware of just how close they were sitting and the way she had been right when she had thought that Zelda would be smiling at her, the result now being that their faces were only a few centimetres apart as Hilda racked her brain to find an answer.

Just as the silence between them had lasted for so long that Zelda opened her mouth to shatter it, Hilda nodded slowly.

“If you want to, then I see no reason to say no.”

If possible, Zelda’s smile seemed to grow even wider as she handed the flower back to Hilda. “I am glad to hear that. Now, if you want, to then you can begin by being the one to count the petals,” she pointed towards one side of the flower, still looking up at Hilda, “just start here and then continue along the edge of it—I find that to be the easiest way to keep track of which ones you have already counted.”

So Zelda had played this game before. Hilda tried her best to shove that piece of information and the implications of it towards a dark, deserted corner of her mind. But it didn’t take long before she realised that it was not that easy, and although she tried her best to focus on remembering the growing number of petals, it kept sneaking back into her mind.

That way, it was no wonder that she barely made it to twenty before she stopped, drawing her brows together as she tried to remember if the last petal had been the twenty-third or if it had actually been the twenty-fourth.

“Did you forget?” Zelda asked.

To Hilda’s surprise, there was no pity to be found anywhere in Zelda’s expression when she looked over at her.

“Yes,” she admitted.

Zelda leant closer, placing one hand on Hilda’s right shoulder to help her balance herself as she pressed a kiss to her temple.

Warmth spread through Hilda, and although she did find it hard to breathe with Zelda so close, it was not an unpleasant feeling. But as it was with all good things in her life, it ended far too soon, Zelda sitting back up straight again, tilting her head as she laughed, a tiny and beautiful sound.

“See? That is the point of the game, and now you can start over and try to count them all again.”

That was exactly what Hilda did. And if she did pause for a bit longer than what was strictly necessary, trying to act like she had suddenly lost count of the petals even though the number was still clearly there in her mind, well, there was no reason for Zelda to know any of that.

+++

Although Hilda could see that Zelda was making a point of listening to her as she explained the history of her world to her, burying herself in the books about the subject of Lorule’s history Hilda gave her, it soon became clear that there were times where their differences were too large for them to ignore, that there were things Zelda could never understand, much like Hilda was still puzzled by what had made Zelda decide to return to her each day, stubbornly offering her help even though Hilda would tell her the same thing every time, reminding her that there was nothing they could do.

They were in Hilda’s office the day their differences became impossible to ignore, standing next to her desk as they leant in to look at the map.

“Have you searched here?” Zelda placed her finger on the map, right on top of the dotted line Hilda had been forced to draw just a week earlier as another crack in the earth had appeared, rendering her kingdom even more fractured and broken.

“I have.” this was not Zelda’s fault. Hilda tried to remind herself of that over and over again. Zelda was here with an optimistic hope to help her, she was asking because Hilda had already gone over her options for years whereas Zelda had only done the same for a few months. But as much as Hilda tried to remind herself of that, it did not make her next words sound any kinder. “There was nothing there. I was there to see how Ravio threw a stone into the fissure, and we never heard the sound of it hitting the ground. It is not possible for us to heal the ground and bring the kingdom back together.”

Zelda shifted, leaning onto her right arm. “But the bridges are working, are they not?”

“The construction of them does provide us with a bit of hope,” Hilda admitted, looking not at Zelda but rather at the vase on her desk. The bright red petals of the flower had not faded much during the weeks that had passed since Hilda had decided to bring it inside and let it keep her company in her study. It was almost like it wanted to taunt her and remind her that although the rest of Lorule was suffering, this flower was as beautiful as ever.

Daring to glance over at Zelda, Hilda wondered if the blonde had noticed the flower. But Zelda was still looking down at the book rather than up at her, so Hilda tapped the pages to emphasise her words. “But it will still take years for us to build enough bridges to make travel between the different parts of Lorule possible again. Right now, it is barely enough for us to evacuate people to the castle, but if we want to use the bridges for anything more than that, the added weight on them would make them crumble within a month.”

“Is there no way we can improve the design?”

Hilda was about to answer, but before she had the chance to open her mouth, the world seemed to spin around her, pain burning throughout her entire body as all of the air disappeared from her lungs, black dots dancing at the edge of her vision. Grabbing the edge of the table, Hilda pressed a hand against her chest and tried to breathe deeply in an attempt to gain the strength to stay upright. But everything in her body fought against her, and just act of keeping back a cry of pain was almost too much.

“Hilda!” from somewhere far away, Hilda was aware that she could hear Zelda’s voice, and a moment later, the other princess had wrapped an arm around her waist, letting Hilda lean up against her as she pushed something towards her. “Here, just sit down for a moment,” Hilda heard Zelda say, her voice far more high-pitched than she was used to.

She did not realise that the thing Zelda had pushed towards her was her chair until Zelda slowly lowered her down towards it. As soon as she made contact with the seat, Hilda slumped over and would surely have fallen to the ground had it not been for Zelda quickly catching her, moving around to stand on the other side of the piece of furniture in an attempt to support her.

“How are you feeling? Do you want me to go get someone to come help you?”

Even though her lungs were still struggling for air, Hilda could see Zelda crouch down in front of her, keeping one hand on Hilda’s elbow through it all. Hilda could only hope that it would be enough to keep her from falling over again.

She could almost hear her body plead for her to give it a moment to rest before getting back to work, but time was a luxury Hilda could not afford right now, so she tried to summon enough energy to stand up.

The attempt failed, so Hilda had to be content with a weak nod as she answered. “No, I am fine. It was probably just the dust in the air and the old books that made me dizzy for a moment.” while she spoke, she waved her hand, motioning towards the supposed reasons for her reaction. From the way Zelda had drawn her eyebrows together, biting her bottom lip as she looked up at her, Hilda could tell that she was not convinced, but she just could not imagine getting up right then to prove that she was fine. “Just give me a second and then we can go back to looking at the books again. We have to find the answer, and I know it is in there somewhere. It has to be.” As soon as the words had left her mouth, Hilda knew that she had added the last sentence more for herself than for Zelda.

Over the months, it had gradually become obvious that Hilda would never succeed in her quest to figure out how Zelda had really managed to make her way into the castle. When she asked Zelda, the other princess would simply repeat the story about another kingdom named Hyrule, and although Hilda had to admit that Zelda told her far too many stories of Hyrule for them all to be completely made-up, the idea of parallel worlds—and a kingdom that was still under the protection of the goddesses—was simply too fantastic to be true.

Of course, Ravio had believed Zelda from the very beginning, but Hilda was certain that her friend would have accepted everything Zelda could possibly have told them, and her personal quest to find a place in her kingdom where Zelda could have lived without the desperation around her having slowly began its mission to kill her had left her with only one option: that Hyrule did indeed exist.

She didn’t want to be jealous, but the mere thought of Zelda being able to rule over a kingdom so peaceful it allowed Zelda to visit Hilda each day as they attempted to figure out a way to save Lorule was enough for her to momentarily find the strength to push herself up from the chair, fuelled by what she knew was unjust anger as she stepped back over to where the book had been left on the table.

As she leant back in, blinking rapidly to make the words stand still on the page, she heard Zelda take a step closer to her again, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. But something about Hilda must have stopped Zelda, as she suddenly froze before pulling her hand back to her chest. Trying her best to not think about how Zelda was most likely looking at her, worry and sadness combined into something horrible, and ignoring how the ache in her stomach felt so different from the pain in her chest, Hilda stared down at the book.

“We could ask people to come to the castle.” Hilda’s voice was shaking despite her efforts to make it appear calm. “However, that would only lead to panic, which could possibly end up getting people injured or even killed. And despite the walls around us, this castle will offer as much protection as a leaf when Lorule inevitably crumbles.”

Hilda didn’t look up, but she could still see how Zelda moved to stand on the opposite side of the table, mirroring her pose. But although Hilda was only waiting for Zelda to respond, the princess stayed silent, and despite the fact that there was no book in front of her, she kept staring down at the table, like they would find a plan etched into the wooden planks.

When Zelda finally spoke, her voice was small and unsure. “You know… there is another option.”

“No.” Hilda shut down the idea before Zelda had reached the end of her sentence. There was simply no need for her to explain what she was thinking, they had already had the exact same discussion multiple times before. “No, I will not do that.”

“But why not? I could show you how I travel between Lorule and Hyrule—it is completely safe, I promise you—and I know that you would love Hyrule. Once the bridges are finished, we could—”

“I said no!” Hilda had not realised that she had moved, but she must have, because the next moment, she was standing on her own without leaning over the table for support. “If Lorule dies, I will die with my kingdom—rather that than to accept your pity. If it turns out that there truly is no way for me to save this realm, then I will tell the people of your idea and the ones who want to can follow you, but I am staying here.”

“Hilda…” Zelda reached forward in an attempt to calm her, but although Hilda almost gave in when she looked at the pain in Zelda’s eyes, she managed to stay strong, backing away from the table.

“I have no idea why you decided to take it upon yourself to help me, but I have accepted your interference so far as it have not distracted me from my duties.” a harsh voice Hilda would have wished she could say was not her own whispered to her that she had already allowed that to happen all of the times she had allowed Zelda to drag her out into the courtyard or convinced her to show her the castle. Perhaps it was the amount of self-hate the voice brought along that made her voice turn cold until Hilda could have sworn that her words were as icy as the snow on Death Mountain. “However, if you try to overstep your boundaries again, I _will_ ask you to leave this castle. Do you understand?” Hilda stared directly at Zelda, unrelenting even as her friend’s eyes grew shiny. It hurt, but she had to do it now while she still had the strength necessary to ignore how every little smile Zelda sent her way tugged at her heart strings or just how much time Hilda spent waiting for Zelda to arrive each afternoon. It was better and easier this way. Once Zelda was gone, it would be easier for Hilda to accept the fact that Lorule was doomed, and if Zelda left soon, Hilda doubted that it would take her very long before she would have completely forgotten about Hilda.

Really, it would be so much simpler and less painful if Zelda actually listened to reason for once. But of course that was not what Zelda did.

“No. No, I don’t understand, or at least I will not accept it.” Zelda glared at her, silently daring her to protest again.

And of course that was just what Hilda did.

“Then I think it would be better if you just left now. Go, find a guard—they love you, so I doubt it will take you very long—and then head back to this portal you keep ranting about like it can singlehandedly save my kingdom.” Hilda huffed, showing exactly what she thought of such an absurd idea. “Go home and forget about me, it will be for the better in the end.” Hilda noticed Zelda move to touch her wrist so she yanked it away, out of her reach.

The sudden movement did cause Zelda to take a step back, but it was still not enough to make her stop with the pitying looks. Even as Hilda turned around, beginning to make her way towards the door, she could almost feel Zelda’s gaze on her.

“Why? Why can’t you just let me help you for once? I promise you that I would not be trying so hard to convince you to accept this plan if it was not for the fact that this is beginning to look like our only option.”

“There is no ‘our’ about this!” Hilda whipped around, and the sudden movement once again made the room spin as her mind grew foggy. “I am the princess, this is my responsibility, and although you like to pretend that you know what is happening and how it is to see your kingdom crumble while you are unable to do anything but watch, you will never be able to know what this feels like!”

“No, but I do know what I feels like to watch your friend accept her death and refuse your help!” by now, Zelda was yelling as well, a few strands of hair escaping from the elegant bun on top of her head as she too backed away. “I know that it must be hard for you to accept that there is a way to save everyone that does not also include the possibility of saving Lorule, but it might be the only way for you and the rest of the inhabitants of Lorule to survive!”

“Well, if I cannot find a way to save my kingdom, then I have failed as a princess, so I might as well stay behind!” feeling a vicious sense of glee at how her words silenced Zelda, the blonde staggering backwards as she formed words that never turned into actual sounds, Hilda continued. “You can try to convince everyone to follow you—I won’t try to stop you from doing that—but you will have to accept the fact that I have decided to remain here with my kingdom until the end.”

Hilda went quiet again, and the silence between them was so heavy that even the task of standing up suddenly seemed enormous to her. It was so quiet Hilda could have heard a pin drop, but even that did not keep her head from spinning as a headache formed right behind her temples.

They stood like that for what felt like ages, both of them staring at the other, waiting for them to say anything. Hilda knew that she should say something, apologise for what she had just yelled, but despite her education, it was as if her entire vocabulary had disappeared from her mind.

In the end, Zelda was the one to break the silence.

“Please… just let me help you. I promise you that asking for help does not make you weak—no one would think any less of you because another person helped you. And if you think about it, you have not asked for my help, I am simply offering it to you, so you can say yes without feeling like you had to ask for help. Please, Hilda, let me help.” Zelda was blinking rapidly, and the realisation that she was seconds away from crying, all because of what Hilda had said to her, felt worse than when she had passed out in the hallway.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just shrug and tell Zelda that she was truly sorry for everything she had said, accepting the offer Zelda had given her?

Rationally, Hilda knew that Zelda might very well be her best and only option. Despite all of the years Hilda had spent searching through the books, visiting distant corners of her kingdom, hoping that she would miraculously find an answer there, prior to Zelda’s arrival at the castle, Hilda had not had a single finished plan. Maybe it was just another proof of her selfishness that Hilda would place her own sense of pride over the option of saving everyone around her.

“I am sorry, Zelda,” Hilda said, bowing her head, hoping that it would be enough to hide the fact that she was seconds away from giving up completely, tears already slowly beginning to spill, from her friend, “but I just can’t.”

“You could try.” and of course Zelda had to stop yelling right then to instead whisper the words while slowly inching closer to Hilda.

If she had just stayed where she was, with the table separating them, while she yelled at her—which would be perfectly understandable considering everything Hilda had said—it would have been so much easier for Hilda to ignore the way her heart fluttered as Zelda pulled her in for a hug, her hair brushing against Hilda’s face.

“Sorry,” Hilda repeated, “but it is simply not possible for me. I have to stay strong for the people around me.”

“But you should not have to do that,” Zelda said, a small smile on her lips as she reached out, catching a stray strand of hair and pushing it back behind Hilda’s ear, ”you have already been strong for far too long, so maybe it is time you let others help you.”

Hilda tried to open her mouth, tried to repeat that that was simply not an option, but although she knew exactly what to say, could almost feel the words waiting for her, she could not remember any of them. Around her, the light began to fade, and she wasn’t sure if the panicked look on Zelda’s face was real or if she was imagining things as the floor disappeared beneath her, making Hilda fall straight into the darkness.

“Hilda!” she felt someone catch her, stopping her fall, but it did not make a difference as the darkness instead rushed forward to grab her. “Just stay awake, I will get someone to come help you—guards! Anyone, I need help!”

With that, Hilda finally lost the strength to keep her eyes open.

+++

Someone had hit her. That was the only reason Hilda could come up with to explain the painful headache that greeted her as soon as she woke up.

Struggling to push the layers of sheets aside, Hilda forced herself to sit up, momentarily unable to recognise the room.

And then it all came back to her.

She was in her bedchamber, having just passed out in her study. That much, she did recall. But that left the question of just how she had managed to get all the way from her study to her bed. From what Hilda could remember, the loss of consciousness had taken her by surprise, so she doubted she would have been able to alert anyone in time.

A glance to the side told her the answer to the question.

Zelda.

The blonde was sitting on a chair right next to her bed, slumped over slightly like she had been there for a long time already. And perhaps she had. After all, Hilda had no idea just how long she had spent unconscious, but if the way every single on her muscles were aching, she would guess that it had lasted for at least about a day.

As her brain slowly began to wake up as well, the familiar panic of running out of time returned as well, now fuelled by the knowledge that she might just have wasted an entire day—maybe even more—with doing anything other than lying here in her bed.

Hilda tried her best to sit up and push the blankets away without making any noise, already quite aware of the fact that if she were to notice what Hilda was trying to accomplish, Zelda would most likely attempt to stop her and make her rest for a while, which was simply not something she could afford to do right then, but although she tried as hard as she could to shove the layers of fabric aside without making the sheets rustle, it must have made more noise than she had anticipated, for Hilda saw Zelda stir just as she had swung her legs off the edge of the bed.

“Hilda?” Zelda mumbled. Her voice was hoarse. Hilda tried not to think about how it was most likely her fault, since the only time Zelda had strained her voice had been when Hilda had yelled at her, making Zelda have to yell as well if she wanted to be heard.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?” by now, Hilda could see that there was no point in attempting to lie, as Zelda was looking directly at her, blinking a couple of times before yawning.

However, Hilda was not the person who gave up even when faced with dire odds, so she sent Zelda her most convincing smile which ended up being so fake that even Hilda knew it would not help her case. “I was just about to get up and go see how long I have been asleep,” she said, deciding that perhaps she could distract Zelda from the fact that Hilda was shaking slightly every time she tried to move by telling a lie that was somewhat close to the truth.

Evidently, that was not the case as Zelda frowned at her. “You have been here for about ten hours,” she said, and Hilda fought to maintain a neutral face even though she had just lost ten hours, knowing that she could not show just how desperate she was to get back to work as Zelda sent her scrutinizing look, “and I really don’t think you should get up now. You look tired, Hilda.”

“Well, I am not.” Hilda replied, wobbling slightly as she pushed herself away from the bed and onto her feet. “See? I am perfectly fine, I just need to figure out how much I missed while I was here,” she continued once she had recovered her balance, now fairly confident she would not fall over as she spun around to face Zelda.

“Hmm.” Zelda bit her lip, clearly not convinced. “Well, there is not anything for you to do right now.”

“Is it so?” Hilda said, silently praying that her tone was calm and not as desperate she it felt. Seeing that she was failing, she glanced around the room, looking for a way to distract Zelda, her heartrate speeding up slightly as she felt the seconds pass without coming up with anything. It was not until she noticed the lack of a familiar person that Hilda knew just how to instantly change the subject of the conversation. “Where is Ravio?”

Her plan worked, Zelda brightening up at the sign that Hilda had finally given up her need to keep on working. “Ravio actually came to see you just a few minutes after a guard had helped me move you to your chambers. He is really great, you know that right?” Hilda could only confirm that with a nod as Zelda continued. “He stayed for a few hours before he had to leave again. Right now, I think he is at a meeting to figure out how to get supplies out to everyone in the kingdom. But he did instruct me to tell you that he hopes you get better soon. Actually, I know everyone hopes that you will feel better soon, and so do I.” Zelda looked down at her lap, her voice turning unsure, something Hilda did not know how to react to.

So instead she just hoped that Zelda would not catch the way Hilda had to pause to lean against the bed to keep herself from falling over as she slowly made her way over to the door leading out into the hallway. She was so close, just a few more metres. Hilda could almost feel the door knop underneath her fingers, and although her body was practically begging her to go and lie down in her bed again, the voice telling her that she was running out of time was louder, drowning out any protest. So close…

“Hilda? Do you have a moment to talk?”

Hilda resisted the urge to sigh, forcing a smile onto her face as she turned around again. “Of course I do. What did you want to say?”

But Zelda did not appear to be in a hurry to answer the question as she gestured towards the bed, sending Hilda a look that made it quite clear that she was waiting for her to sit down as well.

Deciding that it would be quicker to just get it over with, and trying to use that to justify the time she was about to waste, Hilda padded over to sit down on the bed.

“Yes?” she asked, and if a bit of her impatience seeped into her voice, well, then that was only natural given how every moment could be their last.

“It is just…” Zelda stopped, and Hilda got the feeling that Zelda was doing her best to avoid looking directly at her as she continued, “… I spent some spent some time in the library while you were unconscious, trying to figure out a way to make you feel better—”

“There is nothing to do,” Hilda interrupted her, “this is just yet another consequence of the destruction of the Triforce.”

“Well, you see, you _are_ actually partly right about that,” Zelda said, “just not the way you are thinking. I don’t think this,” she motioned towards Hilda, “is because Lorule is using your life to keep itself from crumbling completely; there is simply nothing in any of the books in the library that suggests that it could function like that.”

“But I know more about that than you do,” Hilda reminded her, “I have lived here my entire life, and I am the one who is ill.”

“And I am not trying to tell you that you are wrong, I am just saying that perhaps there could be other reasons as well.”

“Such as?”

“Well, the most obvious ones would probably be the fact that you are almost constantly working. Really, other than that one time I practically had to drag you out into the courtyard, how many times have you gone outside lately?”

Looking down at her hands, Hilda could already hear how unconvincing her mumbled reply sounded. “I had to attend a meeting in—”

“How many times did you go outside just to relax?” Zelda said, cutting in. The silence between them was enough to answer her question, and Zelda nodded to herself. “Hilda, I know that you believe that working nonstop is the best thing you can do for Lorule, but really, I think you would discover that finding time to calm down and relax will help you. Besides, as you have said yourself, the air here is not exactly great, so that could also be part of the reason why you have been so ill.”

“But what if you are wrong?” Hilda whispered, her fists clenched so tightly her nails were digging into her palms. “Let us pretend that I do as you suggest and spend a few days doing nothing and it turns out that I do not get any better because I was right and this is simply Lorule’s last attempt to survive for a little longer. Then what? I will have accomplished nothing except wasting even more time.”

“But you will have proof,” Zelda said, her voice so sure that Hilda could almost let herself believe that Zelda’s idea was good, “you will either know for certain that you were right or you will see that I was telling you the truth. Please, just give it a chance. I can show you Hyrule, you will not have to spend your entire day there, but I am sure that it will help you. Just… let me do something other than sitting here and watching you get more and more tired.”

And for once the voice went quiet, allowing Hilda to look up at Zelda.

She was looking miserable, her eyes red and filled with tears, and her mouth a firm line as she waited for Hilda to answer, as if she had already given up and was waiting for Hilda to continue to insist that she was fine.

Almost afraid that the pressure would return if she waited for too long, Hilda hurried to answer. “I will,” she said, stepping closer to Zelda, reaching out to take her hand, though she stopped halfway through the action, unsure if she could continue.

Zelda sniffled, quickly wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. “You are coming with me to Hyrule?” she asked, finally looking at Hilda.

“I am. And I apologise for everything I said back before… I passed out. It was not right, you are wonderful and I am lucky you came here, willing to help me—”

“Stop,” Zelda said, waving her hand in front of her. Hilda followed the movement with her eyes, wondering if she had made the right decision when she had stopped herself from reaching out for her, “there’s no need for that, I am just happy you agreed to take a moment to calm down again and try to get better.” almost like Zelda knew what Hilda was thinking, she moved closer and took her hand. “Now, it will take some time for me to figure out how to travel through the crack and bring you with me, but we should be able to go today. Is that alright?”

“It is great,” Hilda said, and the way Zelda smiled at her made her even more certain that she had meant it.

+++

“How do you know that this is safe?” Ravio asked, looking first at Zelda, then at the cracked tablet, before looking over at Hilda and starting over again. “Not that I doubt you, but if we lose Hilda now…”

Squeezing his hand, Hilda tried to convince both Ravio as well as her own heart that was beating frantically against her ribs that this was completely safe. “Don’t worry, Zelda has used this portal to travel back and forth between our two kingdoms countless of times, she knows what to do. I will be back in just a few hours.”

From her spot next to Hilda, Zelda nodded at Ravio. “Yes, this is a connection between Lorule and Hyrule. There is no risk that we will get lost anywhere since this portal will take us directly from one place to another, and none of my books have mentioned anything about the possibility of portals like these being dangerous. Besides, I can personally guarantee you that I will not allow anything to happen to Hilda.”

Zelda’s hand brushed against Hilda’s, and Hilda was fairly sure that the combination of the gesture, minor as it may be, and Zelda’s promise had made her blush. At least her face felt warmer, though that could also be the effect of the dying sun disappearing behind the horizon.

“But if you want to,” Zelda continued, “you can come with us. Then you can see for yourself that Hilda is going to be perfectly safe through it all.”

“No, no,” Ravio said, a nervous laugh escaping him as he quite clearly tried to decide between not having to worry about Hilda and staying in the world he was familiar with, “I don’t think will be necessary… although, you are sure that you will be able to make it back to Lorule again, right? Because if there is a risk that you will not be able to return, I would prefer to go with you so I won’t have to wonder if you have died.”

“Yes, of course,” Zelda laughed, gently patting Ravio on the shoulder, “but I can assure you that we will return. We won’t be gone for more than a few hours, don’t worry about it.”

Just as Hilda was about to cut in to remind her friends that they had to get going, Ravio finally accepted Zelda’s attempts to assure him that they would survive the journey to Hyrule. “If you promise that nothing will happen, then I can also, well, no, I will not be able to promise it, but I can say that I will try my best not to worry about you too much while you are gone.” he said with a nod before turning around to face Hilda. “Can I get one last hug before you two leave?”

“Of course,” Hilda said, moving forward towards him.

They stood there for a while, silently embracing. The seconds passed and although Hilda wanted to say something to Ravio—anything, to tell him that he was her best friend and that she was grateful he had always been there for her throughout her entire life, to remind him that this was her decision and that no matter what, no matter what could go wrong, she would be happy—she couldn’t do anything apart from holding him tightly.

Ravio was the first one of them to end the hug, continuing to walk over to Zelda. As the two of them exchanging a quick hug and yet another laugh, Hilda tried her best to calm down and to convince her that this was nothing Zelda had not tried before. But although she knew all of that and was perfectly aware that nothing was going to happen, her heart simply did not want to listen, beating quicker and quicker.

When Zelda took her hand and began to lead her over to stand directly in front of the cracked line that decorated the tablet, Hilda found herself unable to focus on anything other than how she had to continue breathing. But for once it had nothing to do with a sharp pain in her chest as it had instead been caused by the journey that lay ahead of them. And, Hilda realised, perhaps also the fact that Zelda was standing so close to her, their shoulders touching as Zelda placed her hand on the tablet, right on top of the crack.

Nothing happened, and Hilda was just about to ask if it had stopped working. But then colour flashed and it was like gravity shifted around her, no longer keeping her grounded, but instead pulling her towards the portal, turning around her. It almost felt like she was pressed flat as everything shifted around her and she passed through the crack, but for some reason, Hilda could not feel a thing. In front of her, she could see Zelda’s hair flutter, and that was what Hilda chose to focus on as the world turned into splashes of colours, brighter than anything she had ever seen before, so bright it hurt to look directly at it.

It was over both far too soon and far too late, and before Hilda had even had time to process what had happened, gravity resumed its normal function, returning both of them to their usual state before they were thrown out of the portal.

She landed on the ground, the feeling of the hard surface beneath her connecting with her hands making Hilda wish she had bothered to ask Zelda if she should be prepared for anything once they would exit the portal. As it was, Hilda tried to brush the dirt off her hands and stand up with as much dignity as she could muster shortly after being thrown onto the ground.

It did not work as well as Hilda had hoped it would, and of course she could not keep her pained expression hidden from Zelda.

“Whoa, you didn’t get hurt, did you?” Zelda asked, moving over to put an arm around Hilda’s shoulder. “I am so sorry; I completely forgot to tell you where we would arrive. But if it helps, I can tell you that I did the exact same thing the first time I used the portal as well.”

“You? Fell over?” Hilda grinned at her, pushing the pain away. “I doubt that.”

“Well,” Zelda said, returning Hilda’s smile with one of her own and a shrug, “it was what happened. Now, are you sure you are fine?”

Hilda paused to give herself time to figure out what her answer to the question was.

It was obvious that the answer was some variant of the word ‘yes’, but it was not until Hilda stopped to truly think about it that she noticed all of the things that had stopped hurting during the last minute. Her lungs felt stronger than they had ever done before; no longer reminding her of the constant strain she was putting on them as they had to fight each day simply to supply the rest of her body with enough air to function. The pain at her temples had almost disappeared completely, having been replaced with the feeling of a light breeze wrapping around her. It was warm, the air cleaner than anything Hilda had ever experienced before, and when she looked up, she was greeted with the sight of a beautiful, blue sky rather than the sickly purple colour she saw everywhere in Lorule.

Perhaps Zelda saw how Hilda was trying to get a chance to take it all in, or maybe she had already known that the beauty of Hyrule would be enough to overwhelm her, for she placed a hand on Hilda’s shoulder, pulling her closer. “Do you like it here?”

Too moved by everything around her, Hilda could only nod.

“So do I.” taking Hilda’s hand, Zelda turned her head to the side, away from Hilda. “I don’t know, but… seeing Lorule the way it was… it broke my heart that there was nothing I could do so that you could have experienced all of this there. Because, trust me, if I had been able to help you, I would have done everything necessary without hesitation.”

“You don’t have to convince me, I already knew that.”

Zelda shot her a smile. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that.”

She was beaming, the last rays of sun that had yet to disappear behind the mountains hitting the back of her head, giving her the appearance of being made of pure gold. And perhaps Zelda really was, or at least it was something Hilda would not have any problem believing as she looked over at her, the sight warming her heart in a way that had nothing to do with the higher temperatures of Hyrule.

“Actually, I might have an idea.”

Hilda leaning in slowly, almost completely certain that Zelda would pull away any second. But instead, the blonde mirrored her movement, the result being that their circlets crashed together, the loud, metallic sound of them connecting making them both take a step back.

“Sorry,” Zelda laughed, already reaching up to remove the tiara, “that was not what I had hoped would happen.”

Seeing what Zelda was doing—and still shocked by how her reaction had been so wildly different from what she had expected to happen, even what she had dared to hope for—Hilda copied the gesture.

The kiss was short—or perhaps that was just an effect of the way Zelda made Hilda’s heart beat faster—and the embarrassment of their earlier failure was still fresh in Hilda’s mind, but she would still not have changed a thing about it, not even as Zelda pulled away from her, looking up at her. There was no trace of pity in her eyes, only joy as she smiled, the skin around her eyes wrinkling up.

“Thank you.”

+++

In the end, Hilda did give in, allowing Zelda to help her and evacuate the rest of her kingdom. Except, it did not feel like she gave in as she sat down with Zelda and Ravio to figure out how to save everyone in time. Rather, it felt like the natural choice to make, and as Zelda turned to accompany Hilda through the crack after they had made sure that they were the very last people still left in Lorule, the two of them holding hands even though it was hardly necessary any longer, Hilda found it hard to believe that she had ever tried to keep herself from accepting Zelda’s offer.

In Hyrule—with the help of both the better air and Zelda continually reminding her that twenty hours of nonstop work was too much for her, even if Hilda wanted to make sure that everyone would be able to get used to life in Hyrule—the pain in both her chest and temples gradually passed, and after only a couple of months, Hilda had to admit to herself that Zelda had been right from the start. Her illness had never been able to better Lorule.

Even though Lorule was gone for good, the crack that had led back into her realm fading away only a little week after they had finished evacuating the population, Hilda knew that she had succeeded. Hyrule was—despite its similarities to the other kingdom—not Lorule, but it was her home now, and Hilda knew that she would do her best to see it prosper.

And, maybe, just maybe, Hilda did hope that she could prosper as well when she would look over to see Zelda at her side.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thank you for reading my fanfic :)
> 
> Originally, I had not meant for it to become this long - really, at first, I had thought that it might be a couple of thousands words, but then it just kept growing, and I began to care more and more about the story, so I kept on writing.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading. I hope that you liked it!


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